Collateral Damage
by Blameless
Summary: Tank wakes up with no memory and only a dark room for comfort. When he meets his doctor, will the tough marine finally break?
1. Chapter 1

_Just a dime store poet, keeping pace, talking his face blue.  
>Two dollar store tramps, to get a glance, a new chance at you.<em>

_Walk passed the dance floor.  
>It's always been a dear friend of mine.<br>Cut calls and concubines.  
>Dancing in four four time.<em>

Everything was quiet, even the ticking of the clock seemed to be muted. It was dark, no light in the room besides the blinding lamp that washed him in light, giving him a headache as he strained to listen to the sounds in the otherwise empty room. The marine's jaw worked as he pulled against his bonds, feeling the strength drain from his limbs he panted and laid back on the cold table. Tank closed his eyes in thought, where the hell was he? He wasn't anywhere he knew he was supposed to be, the place reeked of medicine and blood and his gut told him he needed to run as far away from here as possible. Was he afraid? Hell no, he was a hardened marine who had gone through much worse things, he was a hero, and heroes didn't get scared. They were tough, tough like him. He continued this inner banter for a while to calm himself, boosting his own ego until he was sure he could manage to escape. Twenty minutes later and nothing. He was alone, he knew no one else was in the room and it bothered him to no end. "Hey…..HEY!" He called out. "Anyone there?" Suddenly he heard muffled speaking, it sounded foreign. He groaned and gently hit his head against the table several times. _Fucking__Nazis__…_ He clenched his jaw and hardened his gaze as he heard the door open, he was approached and shuddered as a gloved hand came to rest against his abdomen, and the only thing covering his lower region was a white sheet. Tank felt violated and exposed, and very uncomfortable being able to feel the man's gaze on him. He kept quiet, silently daring the other to speak first. Finally, words spilled from the other man who was still encased in darkness and unable to be seen. He sighed and fiddled with a small table next to Tank, he squinted his eyes as a glint blinded him momentarily. He felt his stomach clench, it was a scalpel, and the sadistic grin of the doctor in front of him was suddenly all too visible. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!" Tank shouted in an effort to keep up the intimidation factor. The man in front of him didn't seem too muscled, he was tall and rather scrawny. Two haunting green eyes gazed out at him with morbid curiosity and vicious intent.

_"Hey Mr.", The bellman says, "I can only recall this nice hotel I said."  
>So he replies, "Then how do you manage?"<br>I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage._

"You can't remember a thing can you?" The mocking tone of the doctor rang out, Tank nearly snorted from how high-pitched he sounded. He kept himself cool and collected, trying the doctor's patience by keeping silent. Much to his dissatisfaction the doctor didn't seem to care either way. He moved closer and bent down, a sneer on his face as the scalpel ebbed closer to Tank's face. Tank flinched as the cold metal touched his warm skin and flinched more feeling warm liquid run down the side of his face. The doctor seemed fascinated and glanced at the door, which was locked. "Vould you like to know my name?" He teased lightly as his finger slowly swiped up the blood dripping down the marine's face. Tank scowled and spit in the doctor's face. With a deep scowl the doctor wiped off his face in disgust. "Mein name ist Edward Richtofen. That vay you know vhat name to scream out vhen you are vrithing in agony." A content sigh escaped the clearly crazed mans lips. Tank snarled and struggled against his bonds, eying the doctor as he hovered over the marine. Tank didn't like the hungry look in Richtofen's eyes, it freaked him out to no end and his mind was screaming at him to escape. Richtofen grabbed his throat, squeezing hard enough so Tank became light headed, and his vision swam viciously.

_In love, I've always been a mercenary, But I never leave my post when the cash runs out  
>I want to make you quiver<br>Make your backbone shiver  
>Hey kid, take the stage and deliver<br>"Hey mister" the bellman says "I can only recall this nice hotel I said."  
>So he replies "Then how do you manage"<br>I dodge the blast, and apologize for collateral damage_

It seemed to drag on forever, a combination of sharp blows from the doctor's fists and slices from the scalpel, all the blood licked up by a pink tongue that after a while began to feel like heaven. Tank was tired, his muscles screamed as his wrists and ankles ached from trying to viciously break free. What was he supposed to do? He was a marine for Christ's sake! He couldn't give up now, but even as that spark of rebellion flamed in his eyes the doctor merely grinned and turned up the torture. Eventually the doctor seemed to tire of the foreplay and straddled Tank, grinning madly and covered in Tank's blood. A needle was in his hand, and a vicious glowing liquid drew Tank's attention. He was injected rather carelessly, Tank gritted his teeth as his arm ached. His vision swam and the liquid burned in his veins. Hissing and shuddering he was suddenly forced into sharp focus, making his head swim again. He could feel every sensation now, the weight of the doctor on his hips and the clear arousal that he was feeling. Sneering in disgust he spat out insult after insult, which only seemed to make Richtofen more excited. "FAGGOT! YOU'RE A FUCKING HOMO!"

Richtofen's grin widened, he shivered gently. He spoke with heat and arousal, but also spoke out of torment to further mock his victim.

"How does it feel to lay on this table covered in your own blood?

Do you feel sad? Full of rage? Or does that outfit help you bury your feelings?

I hate to hear your true self.

You're truly an extraordinary specimen; I look forward to breaking you!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: short chapter holy hell, I wrote this a while ago and forgot to update my fanfiction account, just threw it on DA**

* * *

><p><em>All I could feel was something wet and warm and I refused to open my eyes. My body trembled with strain and stress; I was beginning to break down but unwilling to admit it. I was stronger than this, stronger than HIM. He could not, and would not break me. But sadly as I heard his laugh echoing in my ears, I knew something had gone wrong. At some point in time something had happened and suddenly I was shattered, a broken remnant of the man I once was. Suddenly his hands were warm and the pain had become too much, it started to feel good. Suddenly his hands were rough and tugging and rubbing everywhere, and I could barely feel a thing besides the sweet gentle flames of pleasure licking up my spine. It was all rather nice as I sunk into oblivion. Sadly, the end I had wished for at that moment never came. <em>

Dr Edward Richtofen frowned as his test subject passed out. He was angry, the sweet torture was supposed to last longer than last time. He'd passed out around the same time as their previous meeting, shortly after a vicious outburst. He stared at the glorious specimen, the short blond hair and closed blue eyes that haunted him in his sleep. Eyes narrowing he released the American from his bonds. Dried and fresh blood both covered his body, as well as staining his pristine white lab coat. His black gloves were off, a rare occurrence but the feel of the American's skin was worth it. Snapping his gloves back on, he deposited the American back in his cell, smiling and humming merrily as he walked out. Closing the door behind him he frowned seeing another head of familiar blond hair. Scowling darkly he crossed his arms and looked at the sheepish man in front of him. "Vhat do you vant Schuster?" Schuster seemed rather nervous and fidgeted; he rather respected the older scientist.

"V-vell…I vas just….vondering…vhy you have been spending so much time vith the American." Schuster tried to build up his courage, he was on the verge of admitting something that could get him killed, but if his theory was right then there was no logical reason he should be denied. Richtofen's gaze hardened, Schuster flinched. "That is none of your concern." Richtofen dragged out in a severe tone. Schuster started to doubt himself, but took a deep breath. Edward started to push past him, but he grabbed his arm quickly even though he wasn't that strong to begin with. Edward paused and glanced back with an annoyed look. "E-edward….I….I want to be your lover." Before he knew it the words were out, Schuster felt hot and cold at the same time as he looked at Edward.

Edward was shocked. He didn't understand. "I…..that's impossible. I do not love you." Schuster blanched, he had made a mistake. "You…you don't have to" His face heated up from humiliation. "Impossible." Edward waved the man off. "Erase that ridiculous notion from your mind." He walked out and left Schuster alone in the lab. Schuster was angry, angry and humiliated. He knew something was happening between the American test subject and Dr Richtofen, was it possible the doctor he admired could….love him? Impossible….it was a ridiculous notion…

Edward returned to the lab hours later. Checking up on all the test subjects, and leaving the American for last. Grinning to himself wickedly he injected the Russian with the vodka based serum before tossing him back in his cell, the Japanese man didn't receive any special treatment either. Both were drugged for safety reasons, they'd learnt their lessons the last time trying to prod them with them both awake. He entered the dark room with the surgical chair once more; the American was groggy but waking. He waited for his blue eyes to open, the same ones he wanted to see cry. The American was confused, the 115 combined with the drug he used to induce amnesia worked wonders. Though he would have loved to have the American recognize him, to have him broken, it was much more fun making him forget everything that happened to keep up that fighting spirit, it was too much fun to break him over and over again.

He approached the swearing man grinning, scalpel in hand as his fingers shook.

He had no idea what was about to happen.


End file.
